


Professor's First Kiss

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Series: Professor John Winchester [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, Professor!John, Professor!John / Female Reader, Professor!John AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5476697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While reader is out to dinner with Chuck, Professor John makes a surprise appearance. This was not how you thought your night would go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professor's First Kiss

Chuck waited until you finished taking the last bite of your burger. “How’s the new gig?”

You dropped the napkin onto the empty plate and looked at your friend as you drank your beer. His hair was a little more frazzled than normal, some wayward curls were sticking up off his crown. The brown cardigan you got him for his first year on the job was threadbare on his elbows and past the point of fraying around the cuffs and collar. He wore a dark yellow shirt with the buttons misaligned and it looked like he had been having nightmares. “It’s ok.”

He ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his greying curls further. “You don’t have to lie to me, Y/N. It’s perfectly fine if you like it. I mean… you won’t hurt my feelings or anything.”

“I just feel bad about abandoning you.”

“You didn’t abandon me.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed gently.

“That’s not how it feels. Mid-year finals are in a month and I know how you work, hon.”

Chuck sat back and took a long pull from his beer. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

You knew everything most definitely was not fine, but if you knew one thing about Chuck, it was not to push him. “It’s going better than I thought it would. He seems –“ _sexy, intelligent, dark, brooding, tall,_ “- to actually enjoy his job.”

It was true. You didn’t know why you were expecting a quasi-best-selling author to be a complete and total jack ass, but he was far from it. He enjoyed everything that came with being a teacher; putting together the curriculum, interacting with the students, and grading papers. He was passionate about his job, and it showed every time he taught.

“Of course he does.” There was no hiding the hurt in his voice.

“Chuck, you’re my best friend and I love you dearly. Is… are you ok?”

He forced a smile before standing. “Couldn’t be better. Be right back.”

You wanted to follow him and make him tell you what was going on, but you didn’t think the men’s room was the place to do it. As you pulled out your cell phone, someone dropped into the chair across from you. “Sorry, not interested.”

A familiar chuckle made your mouth go dry. “Is that any way to talk to your boss?”

“John… I – I mean, Professor Winchester. What are you doing here?”

A black leather shoulder bobbed as he crossed his blue jean clad legs. “I was walking by and saw you with your friend, thought I’d stop in for a drink. Always wanted to come here.”

Here was a bar that made the best burger in town. Nothing fancy, just well-seasoned meat and homemade buns. Students made up most of the clientele, but a couple teachers made their appearances from time to time.

After signaling your server for another round of beers, you watched as John fiddled with his wedding ring. Something you noticed him do only when he talked to you. “You finish grading those papers?”

“Nah. They’ll be there in the morning. Had to get out of the office, get some fresh air.”

Chuck came around the end of the bar, cell phone in his hand. “Sorry to eat and run, but the dean just called.”

You didn’t like the way he said that. “Everything ok?”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll call you later.” After a quick hug, Chuck waved to John, and hurried out of the bar.

John rest his elbows on the table. “I don’t know him very well, but he doesn’t seem to be ok.”

“He’s not. But he’s also not being very forthcoming.”

“Is he usually?”

“When he thinks it’ll hurt someone? No.”

“Who is he afraid of hurting?” The man across from you looked genuinely concerned.

You shook your head before taking a long drink of beer. You didn’t really feel like explaining the complexities of your relationship with Chuck. A particularly rowdy group of students came out of the back room. “Wanna shoot some pool?”

* * *

Before you had even walked a block, John offered you his jacket. You tried to decline, but he wasn’t having it. Leather and spice overwhelmed your senses, making it very difficult to keep your mind from wandering.

It was mainly John that did the talking. Not because you didn’t have anything to say, but because you loved hearing him talk. The way he described things made it easy to imagine exactly what he had seen or experienced. He had just finished telling you about a press tour through New York when it felt like your front door appeared out of nowhere.

“Thank you for walking me home.” God, you hadn’t felt this nervous about a guy at your front door since you were a teenager.

Hands tucked into his pockets, he smiled almost shyly. “Can’t have anything happen to you.”

You watched as he shuffled his feet and suddenly, there were a million butterflies in your stomach. “John?”

Humming in response, he stilled, and you could swear that everything around you went quiet.

Taking a step closer, you rest your hand against his cheek. His beard was softer than you thought it would be. When he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, his brow furrowed as if he were fighting this huge internal battle.

There was a small voice in the back of your head that screamed at you to stop, that this was a bad idea, getting involved with him, but you ignored it. His lips were soft, but not as soft as the hairs surrounding it. You stood on tip toe when a hand fell to the small of your back, pulling you firmly against his chest.

He swept his tongue over your bottom lip, moaning in quiet desperation when you opened your mouth to him. You could taste the beer and chicken wings from earlier underneath the peppermint gum you had offered to him on the walk home. You buried a hand in his hair as he took control of the kiss, backing you into the wall, and bending his knees ever so slightly.

His kisses were fierce, making you wonder if you’d be sporting bruises in the morning. One thing you did know was that your chin and upper lip would be red from his mustache and beard. With his hips pinning you to the wall, he rest a hand on your face, and that’s when you felt it; the cold sting of his wedding ring.

With aching lungs and guilt stomping out the fire in your stomach, you pulled back. Long fingers ran along your jaw and kiss swollen lips as his eyes snapped open.

John stood tall and ran a shaking hand through his hair. “I – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Swearing under his breath, he began to walk backward down the steps.

This wasn’t like you. You weren’t the kind of person to sneak around with a married man. You called after him, but it was too late, his long legs quickly carried him away from your house.  


End file.
